


The Rumor and the Rendezvous

by Cal_Eats_Peeps (Devon_Rambles)



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: No Incest, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-06-30 11:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devon_Rambles/pseuds/Cal_Eats_Peeps
Summary: It's the Hargreeves' thirteenth birthday! They spend it sneaking out, eating doughnuts till they puke, showing off their powers...you know, typical teenager things. It's all fun and games until they realize they've made a crucial mistake (one that could cost them a lot more than their night off).





	1. Chapter 1

Ben and Vanya may be his closest siblings, but Allison is Five's favorite training partner by far. Of the Hargreeves brood, they're the only two who approach their gifts with an attitude even remotely resembling curiosity. Luther, Diego, and Klaus never question anything. As for the others? Well, they're ranked below them for a reason.

Allison's the only one who, in Five's opinion, is neither too unimaginative nor too afraid to toy with the limits.

At Pogo's suggestion, the children have twenty free minutes today in honor of their being adopted by Sir Reginald. Allison and Five decide to add the extra time onto the paired training block their father had already scheduled that afternoon. In this particular session, Allison's telling a rumor as Five jumps or freezes to see how well her voice carries across space or time. When he gets caught, Allison must hastily add a second rumor that's worded shrewdly enough to negate or override the first without making him lose his memory or suffer additional consequences. Five, however, is usually too quick, and his sister's words hang limply in the air before scattering across her bedroom floor.

Five has just evaded her once more when their middle sibling saunters in and flings himself onto Allison's bed.

"Al," the boy says, eyes closing in mock exhaustion, "could we _please_ take a minute to talk about NSYNC? Do you think they'll get back together soon? I'm trying to talk to Diego about it, but it's...painful. For both of us." He rubs his arm absently where his uniform has torn. Five notes the jagged shape, like something sharp glanced off it.

Allison stares at the interloper in disbelief. "Klaus. You need to accept the fact that 'taking a break' means 'no longer a band'. So that settles that. Besides, can't you see we're busy?" She gestures towards Five, who rolled his eyes so quickly at their brother's appearance, she swore she could hear his pupils crash against his skull.

Klaus lurches up into a cross-legged position and surveys numbers Three and Five. Their bodies scream anger, but Allison's lips, upturned at one corner, give her away. He presses his advantage. "So sorry, sissy. Let me make it up to you. Waffles tonight? I'll even invite the other chumps."

Five speaks for the first time since his brother interrupted training. "I refuse to suffer through waffles on my birthday -"

"- _Our_ birthday-"

"Plus, I was going to spend tonight practicing. Alone." _Or with Allison_ , he wants to add, but he's embarrassed. The words wither, powerless, like most of his sister's rumors on him.

"How about doughnuts? From Griddy's?" Allison suggests in a lowered voice. 

"Fine," Klaus concedes. "But we're definitely going out. We're not just going to talk about it and then sit on our asses all night. And you know what? I'll treat you both. Any obscene quantity of doughnuts you want."

"With what money?" Five scoffs.

Klaus winks and waves his hand as he rises from the bed. "Never you mind. I've recently come into some cash." He makes his way out of their sister's room. "Tootles!"

Allison shakes her head before glancing back at Five. "I figured he wouldn't leave until we compromised."  
  
Five sighs. "Whatever it takes to get him to shut up." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "He does have a point about celebrating, though. Until I figure out temporal jumps, we're only turning thirteen once."

"Are you saying Klaus had a good idea? One you didn't think of first?" His sister teases. 

"I won't deign to respond to that." For the umpteenth time, Five finds himself glad he doesn't blush easily. "I'll have you know I was thinking of being self-indulgent if paired training went well today."

"So only if you felt like you earned it, you mean? You sound like Luther." 

Five turns to leave. "I'm not the only Hargreeves who treats their power like a sport."  
  
His sister shrugs. "Fair enough." She ducks her head closer to her brother. "Same time, same place. For tonight," she murmurs. 

"No." FIve pauses in the doorway. "I want to practice my spatial jumps. I'll meet you all there." 

"Where are you going?"

"To see if Mom has any blank petty cash request forms. In case Klaus, you know, pulls a Klaus." He bows his head at Allison before striding down the hall. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Five have contrasting strategies for buying everyone doughnuts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all of you who enjoy Ben/ Klaus (which i imagine is just about everyone in the fandom)

Klaus hums cheerfully as he makes his way from Allison's bedroom to Ben's. He leans against the door frame and peers at his brother, who's prone across his bed with a novel. "Ben."

Number Six doesn't acknowledge his brother's existence and as such, fails to note Klaus isn't wearing his uniform jacket. 

"There's something on your face." Klaus creeps into the room. 

"Mmm."

Klaus rips the book from Ben's hands. "Much better." He beams down at his companion, who shoots him a glare that could rival one of Five's own trademark scowls as he pulls himself into a seated position. 

"What do you want, Klaus?" 

"Well. That's a loaded question." Klaus flops onto the bed beside the other teenager and crosses his legs over the side facing the door. "World peace? An end to world hunger? An end to the hunger of seven very good boys and girls in particular?" 

"You're right," Ben says, stoic in the way that he gets only when he's about to say something with a bite. "I should've asked something less contentious than what you wanted. It must be so hard being you and having to face such tough questions."

Klaus flips the pages of Ben's book idly between lily-white fingers. "Apology accepted. In this exact moment, however, I happen to have a very specific desire. Twenty desires, to be precise." He gestures towards Ben's money jar with the paperback and extends his other palm towards the boy while channeling the most adorable, pitiful facial expression he can. 

"Nope. I had to make up a lot of sob stories to get Dad to dish out any cash. If I give you some, I'll never get paid back."

"The pleasure of my company is more than enough compensation."

Ben taps Klaus playfully on the arm. "I'm not giving you a consolation prize. Has losing to me so often made you forget how betting works?"  
  
"You wish, brother mine." Klaus leans onto his elbows, imitating the position Ben took up when they had started bickering. "I bet you he'd shoot down the waffle idea. Never underestimate how much Five hates breakfast foods and other people's suggestions."

Ben smiles back, much to Klaus's surprise. "Not so fast. I got Luther come with us. And I may or may not have told him there was money on the line."  
  
Klaus's jaw clenches as he lowers his arm to the bedspread. "How. Dare you."

His brother winks and takes the opportunity to retrieve the book. He slides Klaus off the bed and stretches to take up the newly emptied space to discourage his brother from overstaying his welcome. "Later, Klaus."  
  
"You're going to rob our precious sister of doughnuts. On her birthday."

"No." Ben opens the book to the page where he left off. "You are. I'm buying my own food tonight. But maybe that puppy-dog look will work on her when you break the bad news."

Klaus storms out, whispering obscenities under his breath. Ben tears through another few pages before it occurs to him he should tell Vanya about their idea.

It takes less than fifteen minutes for the siblings to plan their birthday celebration, but several months before Ben notices his jar is short twenty dollars. 

* * *

Five knows countless facts, but of those, four are more pertinent to him now than the rest. One is that his siblings would rather be subjected to an entire day of solo training than let themselves get caught wearing tattered or soiled uniforms. The second is that a small rip won't warrant more than five dollars, if that. The third is that Klaus hates solitude. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Mom won't lie for them. Five knows that better than anyone. 

So he sneaks into Klaus's quarters while the latter haggles with Ben and detaches the torn sleeve from the rest of the uniform jacket for good measure. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five asks a brother for help in a rare display of what he considers weakness.

Five finds another brother building a model rocket, of all things.

Armed with pliers and a bottle of glue, the towheaded boy hunches over on the couch. He's too engrossed in an instruction kit and a pile of modeling wood in his lap to notice the sibling peering at him from the doorway.

Nonplussed, Five watches him for a few moments before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

Luther jumps and drops the pliers before glaring at Five. "Jesus. How long were you standing there like a creep?" He appraises Five as the shock ebbs away. "And you've...ripped someone's sleeve off. Do I even want to know?"

Five shrugs and tucks the sleeve into the pocket of his uniform shorts as he invites himself into the parlor. It was a room he used to skirt around out of irrational, unspoken fear. The air is always stale and the taxidermy animal skulls leering down, as if mocking the inhabitants, used to freak him out. But after twelve - no, thirteen - years of having his whereabouts constantly privy to Dad (who was arguably worse than the stuffed heads), Five takes no notice of them anymore. "I was debating how long I could let you keep butchering that before I saved you from yourself. You were so earnest, but really, any longer would've just been cruel." Five approaches the desk, takes up the glue bottle, and slaps a tiny leg onto the body of the rocket while pushing up the ones attached previously. "There are four antennae, not three. They belong just slightly superior to where you have them positioned as well." He closes the bottle and steps back, admiring his work before meeting Luther's eyes. "I give you an accurate rendition of Sputnik 1. You're welcome."

A heavy moment passes before Luther responds. "Can't you ever reign in the little voice in your head that says you have to be better than everyone else at all times?"

"Can't you?" Five retorts. "Anyway," he continues as his brother blanches, "I'm loath to ask twice, so listen closely." He inhales. "I need a favor." 

"I know." Luther sets his things gingerly on the cushion to his right, away from Five. "I know about the plan for this evening," he adds in a hushed tone. "You need help asking Mom for cash, right?"

Five whistles. "Very astute, Luther. Yes. How do you know about this?" He glances up to survey the apparently empty half of the room. "Did Allison or Klaus find you before I did?"

"No. Ben told me earlier today and practically begged me to tag along. Something about a bet he made against Klaus...?" His voice trails off. 

Five clicks his tongue. A bet, huh? So that's how Klaus became so confident in his newfound ability to afford doughnuts.

"Do you think it's a good idea? Dad already gave us free time today. Maybe we shouldn't push our luck." Luther's voice drops even lower. 

Five snorts. "Are you really asking me for life advice? I'm not your therapist." He crosses his arms and Luther's reminded that they're the same age, and Five isn't a crotchety old man born into a child's body. It's something he has to actively remember. "I was going to go out whether you all joined me or not. It's the perfect chance to hone my long-distance jumping-"

"-you should really join the junior track-and-field team-"

"-not to mention it's our birthday." Five looks down, suddenly embarrassed, and folds his arms tighter like he's hugging himself. "Listen, you don't have to come. I get that there's more at stake for you than for the rest of us. But I really need the favor. Not just for the sake of tonight. I like having cash on me and frankly, the alternatives are more humiliating than the fact that we have to have this conversation."

Luther nods slowly and leans back, letting the couch support his entire weight. Of his siblings, he's the one least likely to ask their father for money, but he knows what Five means. The Hargreeves have to steal, dumpster dive, or wheedle particularly devoted fans into buying them things far too often. Before Dad came up with the idea of using petty cash request forms, he even forgot to give them adequate funds for groceries.

Between their father's desire to keep them under his microscope around the clock, dislike of running "plebeian errands", obscene attachment to his money, and insistence on keeping Mom and Pogo shut in the house (which was honestly understandable considering the extra, even less welcome attention they'd get if a sentient, virtually indestructible robot or dark-suited talking money were seen crossing their threshold), the siblings rarely found the money or time to buy food. Apparently going to bed hungry wasn't a significant enough form of stress to activate Mom's protective programming.

Five also happens to suck at asking people for help. Especially Mom, for some reason. 

"Okay," Luther agrees at length. "On one condition."  
  
Five rolls his eyes for the second time in less than eight minutes. "Pray tell, what could that possibly be?"  
  
Luther grins. "You're not going to like it." 

Five grits his teeth. "I don't have all day."

"Say 'please'."

Five stares at him. "Have you lost your mind?"

"Say 'please'. I, for one, don't mind repeating myself."

Luther's grin widens despite having to duck to evade Five's swats. Sputnik topples to the chipped tiles on the floor. "Ask me nicely, Five, or the deal's off!"

"Keep your voice down!" Five hisses. 

"One little word. I'm waiting."

Five clenches his fists. "Forget it. Bye." The air around his hands wobbles and begins to gleam a faint blue when his brother rests a hand on his left arm. 

"Kidding, Five. Let's get you that doughnut money." 

"Great. Was that so hard?" Five relaxes and straightens his tie. "Of our siblings, I thought you'd be the least insufferable."

Luther barked a laugh. "I am. You would've jumped out of the room way sooner if I were anyone else."  
  
Five emits a long sigh through his nostrils, like he'd been holding the air in for decades. "Some thanks I get for helping you with that rocket."

Luther stands and claps a hand onto Five's shoulder. Five jerks away as if he'd been set aflame, and the two leave the room in search of their mother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* I love Luther and I'm only a little ashamed of it
> 
> This wasn't intended to be about Five's relationships with each of his siblings, but if my brain is left unchecked it just might turn into that
> 
> Also, in my hc their bedrooms don't have doors, but in the show they do, right? I think they do. Let's say they have no doors until just before they move out and Sir deems them mature enough (read: old and jaded enough to fight back) to have the right to "privacy"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five and Luther ask Mom for cash. Luther notices something's up between Mom and Five. The Hargreeves siblings sneak out. The author meanders toward the plot.

The boys find Mom in the classroom preparing next week's lessons. The three adults in the household rotate teaching arithmetic and English, but the burden falls mostly on their parents. Five suspects Pogo instructs them more out of boredom than genuine interest. With Mom, there isn't much else to do around the house. 

Mom, seated and writing at the desk at the opposite end of the room, looks up as the two walk in. "Hello, boys! Are you enjoying your Adoption Day gift? Mr. Hargreeves was very generous this year." 

She's beaming upon them, but Five feels oddly impervious to it, like he's watching himself interact with his mother through a pane of tinted glass. "We need you to ask Dad for money." Better to be blunt about it. 

"Please," Luther adds hastily. 

One would have to have known the woman for a long time to notice the way her smile fractured as she looked from One to Five. "Of course. Whatever for?"

Five blinks. Damn it, he's rehearsed this. 

Luther's equally unhelpful. "Um-"  
  
"Klaus got in a fight with Diego." Five peels the sleeve out from where he was keeping it and holds it aloft.

Mom takes it gingerly without taking her eyes off him.

"Those whippersnappers," Five continues awkwardly, plunging his hands into his pockets as if hoping he'd find a better lie there. "Boys will be boys, huh?" 

Luther winces but doesn't dare elaborate. 

Their mother inspects the sleeve and mulls over what Five has said. He notes how her smile has resumed it usual size at the mention of Diego. "Those two! Always getting into trouble." She sets the sleeve on the desk with care and Five knows they've nearly won. "Let me guess, they're too proud to apologize and admit this to me, so they sent you in their stead?"

"Just me. " This lie flows much more smoothly from Five's lips. Diego would never send Luther in his stead for anything, as sure as Luther would never pass up the chance to entangle himself in his siblings' affairs. "But Luther happened to hear the fighting down the hall and broke them up. Good ol' Number One."

Luther's wince deepens. 

Mom laughs. "Didn't I tell you?"

"Yes, that's exactly what happened." Five can't stop lying. "Gosh, Mom, you know us so well."  
  
The bitterness radiating from Five's words is lost on Mom. He supposes she has likewise made herself impervious to him. "You're too kind. Let me get a form for you." She stands and rotates her torso until her spine is facing her sons and opens the compartment Dad installed in her back, where she keeps the family medical records, adoption paperwork (forged, if Five had anything to say about it), and petty cash request forms. 

Dad used to keep such papers in his office, but not since Five learned how to jump and Diego mastered lock-picking. He probably figured they're have a more difficult time, literally and emotionally, with robbing their mother. The old man was nothing if not shrewd. 

Mom extracts a blank form and passes it to Five. "Have this back to me before your sessions end and I'll have your answer before tomorrow." She rotates her trunk again until she resembles an average mother once more. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Five shakes his head in dissent.

"Luther?"

"No thank you." 

Mom sits at the table, smooths her skirt over her legs, and takes up her pen while taking her eyes off the boys. It's a habit she picked up from Dad to signal a conversation's over. "Very well. Don't you two get into any riffraff yourselves!"

"Don't worry, Mom," Luther reassures her as he ushers Five out. "We'll be the ones starting it!"

Five shuts the door behind them as Mom chuckles at his brother's lame joke. "Pleasure doing business with you." He turns his back on Luther and starts the ascent to his bedroom. 

"Five. How come Mom never addresses you directly?"

The boy stops short and laughs without mirth. "You're just noticing that now? You've a lot of catching up to do." Shaking his head, Five vanishes, evidently jumping directly into his room. Luther cranes his neck up at the staircase, silent and immobile as if the thought of Five disappearing petrifies him. 

* * *

Five gets what he wants shortly after individual training sessions conclude. Dad approves forty dollars for the "jacket repair", and the siblings set their plan in motion. 

The Hargreeves children don't go out much, but when they do, they have an impeccable routine. It starts with Allison rumoring Dad and Pogo to sleep soundly through the night. Diego distracts Mom and makes small talk until she powers down. Then they creep into the front hall and leave one by one, taking care to stay close and return before dawn when Mom restarts. 

When they sneak out together, they never get caught. Dad's right. There's no individual stronger than the collective. 


End file.
